Disclaimer: Firefly, these characters, much of the plot and dialogue – all Joss'.

SPOILERS for “Out of Gas.”

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TRAUMA MEDICINE: Chapter 12.

Am I dreamin'?

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A man can be held accountable for his actions but not his dreams, Mal reminds the accusing face that stares back at him from the mirror. He splashes his face with cold water even though there ain't enough water in the 'verse to wash his mind clean of these images. He swills his mouth out and spits into the little sink, almost angry. He ain't to blame for what his mind is drawn to durin' sleep. It ain't nowhere he'd willingly go.

A glance at the clock tells him it's early, but too late to go back to sleep so he decides to get breakfast now. Least that way he won't have to sit down with Inara. Or Simon. Which, considerin' what his subconscious has had him doin' to them, will be a real blessin'. Don't know why he has to keep dreamin' such things ...

He ain't right, that much is certain. There's somethin' broke deep down inside him an' he can't fix it.

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Scratching the back of his head, Jayne grunts and start counting once again, moving the pile of banknotes on his left, bill by bill, to form a new pile on his right. When he's finished he glares at the new stack like it's pulled some fancy scam on him. “Gorramit!” he spits, “Kaylee – what d'ya make fifteen hundred divided by five?”

“Three hundred,” Kaylee replies, crumbling dried protein into a pan of meat stock of some unspecified variety.

“Tha's what I reckoned!” Jayne slaps a hand down hard on the dining room table. “That hundan Mal's cheated me!”

Kaylee frowns. “Cap'n wou'n't do that, Jayne. You mus' be countin' wrong.”

The mercenary snatches up the wad of notes in his fist and shakes it angrily. “There's only two-fifty here. Thought Bernoulli agreed thirty-five hundred platinum for the Higgins' Moon job? Mal took twenty for the ship, that leaves fifteen. Split five ways tha's ...”

The penny drops and Kaylee laughs. “There's your p